Justice Alliance of America
by LongLiveI
Summary: Forged through pain, brought together by fortune, and united by hope, eleven heroes will fight together in the universe of Earth-D. Follow as they struggle with life, tyranny and, ultimately, themselves.
Craven Bow, chief of the Shiyoux tribe, trains his younger, adopted brother, Roy Harper, who was taken in by his late father to honor a life debt, in the icy, wooded mountains of Washington. Six-foot-two, muscular, and of Native descent, Craven is a very skillful warrior, being the youngest chief to lead his tribe at twenty-six. He is wearing his Shiyoux entire, consisting of a dark green, hooded vest with pad armor, thick black tights, fingerless brown gloves, and brown boots. His hood is down, showing off his long black hair braided into a lengthy ponytail and black eye paint. Roy is of age at twenty, but shorter and scrawny. He wears the exact same clothing as his brother, except in a red variation to identify his lesser rank. His red hair is cut short, and he too, has black eye paint.

The two have been engaged in a days long hunters game, a Shiyoux training method. Armed with a bow, a quiver filled with round tip arrows, and thigh rigs containing other small weapons and necessities, they track one another, using tactics taught to them by their father, Brave Bow. Though their weaponry is non-lethal, the skirmish between them is intense. Craven's natural feel of the wilderness has given him the high ground advantage. He hawks down from above with authority, scanning for any signs of Roy. Suddenly, the wind breaks and he dodges a red arrow that emerges from the trees below. Quickly he fires back in the same direction from which it came, and swiftly abandons his spot to avoid retaliation. Roy, manning the low ground, is dead set on keeping this a distance battle. He has done well rationing his food and material, and has mapped out warm places to sleep during the below zero nights. Rather than push forward, Roy remains in his comfort zone, relying heavily on his proficient arching skills. Craven is impressed by his brother's survival skills and tactics up to this point. He is ready to throw a new challenge him. Face to face combat. Craven is aware that it is not going to be easy getting close to Roy. Making his way down under the cover of trees and large rocks, Craven moves steadily with an arrow already drawn into the tightly strung string of his bow. The silence of the outdoors makes him extremely cautious. Birds suddenly fly from the tree tops, shaking his focus. In that very moment of misdirection, Roy takes his shot. Craven, having superb hearing, kneels down to duck under the projectile while simultaneously firing his already drawn arrow. Realizing his brother is on he attack, Roy races backwards through the woods, down the mountain. Craven quickly pursues. Roy is fast, but the jagged terrain takes away from his speed. On the other hand, Craven dashes through with no problem. As his superior gains on him, Roy stops to fire an arrow, but this proves to be a crucial mistake as he didn't relies how close Craven was. Before he can even reach for an arrow in his quiver, Craven tackles Roy and they both go tumbling through the dead, brown leaves on the ground. Separating as they roll, they manage to stop themselves and hop to their feet.

"No more games. No more running," Craven says aggressively. "You've impressed greatly with your arching skills. Now lets test you in combat."

"Fine, but you asked for this," Roy challenged back as he took a fighting stance.

Both hold their bows, green and red respectively, ready to engage in the traditional art of bowing. Roy makes the first move, attacking with speed and aggression. Craven gladly goes on the defense, wanting to see how much skill Roy possessed. The wood of their bows click and clack as they collide. Roy begins adding in nimble kicks as he takes advantage of his light weight and agility. Surprisingly, Roy lands a spartan kick to Craven's gut, knocking him down. He quickly follows up by firing an arrow. Completely composed, Craven catches the arrow inches away from his chest and retaliates by rolling backwards onto his feet and firing the arrow back. Roy jump rolls out of the way, but as he stands up Craven rushes him. Pressing their bows together in a struggle of pure strength, Craven easily pushes Roy backwards and forces him against a tree.

"Your weak!" Craven yells at him, trying to get him angry.

Fired up, Roy pushes back with everything he has only to have Craven side away and send him tumbling ahead to the ground. On his hands and knees, Roy lets out a frustrated war cry as he climbs to his feet and reengages Craven with a greater intensity. This time, Craven attacks back as he feels he has finally drawn out the inner warrior that lied within. The sounds of the wilderness is now filled with clicks, clacks, grunts, shouts, shifting, and any other noise the two manage to make during their battle with one another. Roy gives it his best, but Craven's balanced mixture of speed, strength, and skill is too much. He swipes him across his jaw with the end of his bow, jabs him in the stomach with the tip, and knees him in the face as he cringes over. Roy flies backwards onto his back, but his adrenaline pushes him not to let this be the end. He ditches his bow, and draws his dull hunting knife that cuts, but not lethally. Craven, surprised, tosses his bow aside. Roy comes at him, fueled only by anger. He skillfully grabs Roy's arm that has the knife, picks him up fireman carry style, and dumps him overhead onto the ground. Roy lands awkwardly on his side, having the wind knocked out of him. Wanting to show more fight, he can't seem to muster the strength to get up.

"Ahhhhhhhhh!" Roy finally screams out as he lies on the ground in defeat, fighting back tears of frustration.

"If you're done wallowing," Craven says. Roy glances up to see Craven lending out his hand. The sight shocks him. Grabbing hold, Craven pulls him to his feet. "You've come along. Father would be proud," he encourages him, and begins walking away through the woods expecting Roy to follow.

"Does this mean I can finally trade in this red for green?" he asks with his hand on his rib cage, slowly trailing behind.

"You still have a lot to learn. I'll make sure you receive a month's rest before you resume your training with War Bear," he informs him, flipping his hood over his head.

"Wait a minute, what?" Roy questions with confusion.

"The reason I've been pushing you so hard," he begins to explains as he leads, "Is because I will be absent from the tribe. Yes, you've shown great progress, but you're not yet ready. War Bear will be tougher on you, so rest well and prepare properly."

"Why are you leaving?" Roy asks.

"A premonition," he states.

"Like a vision or something?" Roy continues to question with curiosity.

Craven stops, places his hand on his brother's shoulder, and tells him, "Roy, all I need you to focus on is continuing to grow as a Shiyoux warrior. To my misfortune, I won't be able to finish guiding you. War Bear will prove to be a good leader for now, but he is old. Take in his wisdom."

"What are you telling me?"

"You will receive your answer in time my brother. Lets move," he leads. "We should make it back to the village just before night fall."

It is a long journey for them as they have spent a little over a week away. Upon returning to the Shiyoux village, Craven is notified to meet with the elders. He makes sure Roy receives a feast to accommodate for the lack of a proper meal in days, then immediately reports to the elders. Entering the hut, Craven sees nine shamans sitting in an incomplete circle Indian-style, all wearing traditional garments of their ancestors. The head Shaman, and Craven's mother, gives a greeting smile.

"Sit my son," she invites.

Craven takes a seat Indian-style in the empty spot, completing the circle, and respectfully removes his hood. "My elders," he acknowledges.

"I sense doubt in you, Craven. Why?" his mother asks.

"The Shiyoux has been life. Leaving behind the tribe and my family to fight some great evil isn't easy," he admits.

"Craven, you are meant for something much, much greater than the Shiyoux. Our ancestors are guiding you to your destiny," she tells him.

"A destiny away from my wife and daughters?" he questions openly.

"The spirits work in mysterious ways, but never question their will. Trust in your ancestors my son. Trust them to guide you, protect you, and to bring you closer to what you desire most," she enlightens him.

"I will," he says, putting his faith in her words.

"Good. Now join has with us. We wish to give you a parting gift," she said, with all of the elders joining hand in hand.

Craven complies. Physically linked, all of the elders begin channeling their spiritual energy into him. Craven begins feeling a strong force coming over him. Suddenly, he experiences a vision. The sky is stained with a reddish orange color. Above a glorious city, creatures not of this world begin to descend and slaughter innocent people in groves. The vision is so vivid, he feels their fear and agony. His vision then begins to flash onto other villages, towns, cities, states, countries, and so on until the Earth is amassed in flames. Unable to breathe, he snatches his hands away, eyes glowing from the powerful energy surging through him. Although drained, the elders are fine.

"I know now," Craven says, taking in what just happen while catching his breath.

"Then go my son," his mother encourages him.

Craven looks into the eyes of the other elders, who give him a look of faith. Without a word, Craven flips up his hood and exits the hut. He heads home to his wife and daughters, who await him. After hugs and kisses, his wife hands him the necessities she and his two daughters prepared for his journey. It is a heart felt moment, but he holds strong believing that he will be reunited with them in the future. Heading to the tribal stable, he calls upon his most trusted stead with a high pitched whistle. War Runner, his black stallion, gallops to it's handler with much excitement. He settles his extra gear onto the horse's saddle and mounts him. With a click of his tongue, Craven Bow rides off into the night under the watchful eye of his ancestors.


End file.
